


Interlude XIV

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [125]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, London, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-11-15 14:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11233104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: A letter to a man who does not exist - and some royal musings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookworm4ever81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm4ever81/gifts).



_Letter to Mr. William Middleton, Esq._

23 Falcon Mews  
Northolt  
Middlesex

December 31st, 1890

Dear Sir,

In light of recent and, ahem, most unfortunate events in my Profession, I felt compelled to write to you beyond our regular, seasonal exchange of letters. As you are of course aware, assassination is a serious matter, and those five of us – four, now – who specialize in this Profession have always held to certain Rules. When quite everything is a matter of life and death, such Rules are of great import, and the fact that one of our number chose to flout them was, as I am sure someone in your position would understand, of considerable Distress to the rest of us.

I refer, as you are by now aware, to the late and un-lamented Mr. Jeremy Coborn, whose departure from this mortal realm you were most probably aware of quite soon after it occurred. The newest of our members, he had for some time engendered Concern amongst the rest of us, in that he seemed to think that the Rules could be bent or even broken 'when the need arose'. I can only thank you for allowing your most estimable (and, if I may be so bold, rather terrifying!) secretary Miss Bradbury to draw our attention to his actions. Much as we are loath to turn on one of our own, it is as you are aware permissible under Rule Seven, Paragraph II, sub-section iii, rather appropriately called 'The Get Out Clause'.

I frankly cannot imagine what possessed Mr. Coborn, a man of what we had thought to be at least some intelligence, to accept a commission from Professor James Moriarty for the dispatch of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Despite being a consulting detective, that gentleman has always dealt fairly and honourably with _all_ factions of the mess that is modern London. Mr. Coborn's lapse of judgement would have been grievous enough given that Mr. Holmes is on good terms with the fabled Queen Molly (a lady of whom none of us wishes to get on the wrong side, even those of us who can swim!), but that he is also a friend of Miss Bradbury – well, I have to say that my initial reaction was utter incredulity that Mr. Coborn could really have been that stupid! He should have known beforehand that in our Profession, such stupidity is fatal one hundred per cent of the time (approximately). 

He knows it now.

On a brief aside, I am not sure what it is about Mr. Holmes, but he has a most strange effect on ladies in general. I pointed him out to my good lady wife one time, and she actually said to me as to how 'cute' and 'adorable' he was! That in itself was bad enough, but I had to 'accidentally' turn away in order to not see the simpers that she sent across the street (and I was standing right next to her!) to the gentleman. Fortunately I have long realized that understanding women is something that the Good Lord never intended Man to achieve. The Direct Removal business is so much easier.

Myself, Mr. Pearce, Mrs. Kyndley and Miss Wood have pledged that we will _never_ undertake a commission against Mr. Holmes, least of all from a Professor Moriarty who has disgusted many of his criminal associates by his foul actions. We have also passed on to certain associates of ours that we will not take kindly to any Amateurs who so do. And unless they wish for a scenic and one-way tour of the Thames (lower areas only), then they should seriously consider their positions.

So to the other reason for this letter. Although my contacts are but a pale shadow of your own, I do have some useful ones within the Trade, and they inform me that Professor Moriarty, having been rebuffed by the remaining Guild members, is now looking Abroad for an assassin. My guess – and it is only a guess, but then, the field is hardly a wide one – is that he will go for Monsieur LeMesurier in Paris, a man of few principles even for a Frenchman. The fellow is usually loath to depart his native country, but will bestir himself for enough money. I hope that this information is useful to you.

The weather continues fine, and you were of course right about that home-made preparation for roses. It really has worked wonders. Mrs. Bow sends her thanks.

Yours

Alfred Bow Esq. (Mr.)  
Direct Removal Agent


	2. Chapter 2

_[Begin narration by Mrs. Margaret Ball]_

London. That unholy mess of humanity and inhumanity, four million souls crammed into one place, fighting the good fight that is the daily struggle for existence. And like all cities, London needs governance. 

_At all levels._

Despite the warm regard that I have for the man, I have to say that the advent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes made my 'lofty position' that much more difficult. As Queen of the Mendicants, a key part in my success lies in my many subjects knowing and trusting that I have no political allegiances, and that whilst there may be some foolish people who think to attack my subjects, a swift retaliatory blow always suffices to drive home to them that, no, that is unacceptable. And maintaining this policy had been relatively easy – until, as I said, the advent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

I do not know what it was about the man, but there was just something about him. I had of course long ago had a large file on the gentleman – one does not remain in any position of power in our city without being aware of even the smallest potential source of friction – and I remember that I had laughed with Lord Joseph over the frequent reports that nearly every female of the species that this Mr. Holmes came across ended up simpering at him. The foolishness of some people.

That was until I met the man himself. My encounters with him were always extremely difficult; there was just something about him that had my face defaulting to where it tried to simper at him, without my brain's permission. And he was so utterly ado.... charming to boot. It was annoying!

I was extremely fortunate, therefore, that he was able to assist me in the matter of my niece's inheritance, which enabled me to let my subjects know that I was Pleased with him. That, coupled with his deadly enemy Professor Moriarty's recent foolishness in crossing me, meant that mendicants across the capital knew that, for once, it was acceptable to take sides. The Professor doubtless believed that he was being just incredibly unlucky, but luck is what you make it, as my dear late mother always said.

I was particularly proud of one of my subjects who, by dint of some well-targetted eavesdropping, was able to pass on to me certain information about a high personage who was behaving Not As They Ought, and worse, in such a way as to endanger my dear little cutie.... I mean Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I passed the information onto him and, unusually that night – for I am not deeply religious – I prayed fervently.

_[End narration by Mrs. Margaret Ball]_


End file.
